


When the World Comes Down

by blue_marauder



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, American Politics, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hate to Love, Lawyers, M/M, Rimming, Suicidal Thoughts, The suicidal thoughts are only within the context of the apocalyptic stuff, There's no depression or self-harm or anything like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:08:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_marauder/pseuds/blue_marauder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I wouldn't breathe the same air as him even if we were the only two people on earth"</p><p>Harry didn't mean that literally. Not until Harry and Louis are the only two people alive on this earth (to their knowledge).</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the World Comes Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoreThanTonight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoreThanTonight/gifts).



**Before**

_The satisfying clicking sound his briefcase made every time he closed it had never sounded as delicious as it did that morning. Louis Tomlinson’s toast had burned, his coffee had spilled onto his hand slightly causing angry red marks to rise from his skin, and his cleanly pressed Valentino suit had sprouted wrinkles overnight, causing him to have to spend an extra three minutes over the iron, taming the hem of his slacks. But when he’d laid his papers neatly inside of Wyatt, his old, trusty briefcase, and snapped him shut with that gorgeous click, Louis knew in his bones that he had his case signed, sealed, and delivered._

_The back of the cab had smelled like Indian food, and when he stepped out onto the sidewalk, Louis had never been more grateful to take in the rich, earthy Washington air through his nostrils. It smelled like the morning fog rolling off the Potomac in waves, and like the old metallic marble of which all the buildings around him had been made. He stared up at the District of Columbia courthouse, Wyatt clutched tightly in his hand, and he couldn’t stop a smile from creeping across his face._

_This would be the day his career changed forever, and he could not be more ready for it._

* * *

**Before**

_Louis was extremely familiar with the Defense Attorney at this trial, having spent the last two months of his life arguing with the man across the ornate expanse of the courthouse. Harry Styles had wide, piercing green eyes and an unprofessional mop of curly hair that he let hang to his shoulders against his pressed gray suits. He had a deep, slow voice that had allowed Louis ample opportunities to jump in and interrupt his arguments during the trial. How a man like that had ever become a lawyer at this level, Louis did not understand._

_When Louis entered the courtroom that morning, however, he found it empty except for the infamous Styles, who was shuffling through a heap of papers with his head down. He ignored the man, settling himself at his table and opening Wyatt. It took him mere moments to sort through his documents and lay them out in front of him in the order in which he planned to reference them in his Closing Arguments. The shuffling from across the aisle stopped momentarily._

_“Tomlinson.”_

_Louis lifted his head from his neatly arranged papers and glanced across the aisle. Harry had seemingly given up on his paper explosion and instead decided to sip casually at his Dunkin Donuts coffee._

_“Styles,” Louis replied._

_“Big day,” Harry continued, and Louis desired nothing less than to talk with him. He gave a noncommittal tilt of his head and a grimace._

_He could see Harry’s smirk out of the corner of his eye, and it made his insides curdle._

_“It’s a shame,” Harry continued, his pink lips curling along the rim of his plastic coffee lid. “You’re quite a talent – it’s going to be hard to watch your career fall on its face before you’ve even really gotten started.”_

_Louis tried his best to look as though he hadn’t even heard Harry, though his blood boiled under his skin. He smoothed one of his fingers along the edge of the topmost paper in front of him, the flatness of the edge soothing his thoughts._

_“For a D.A., you’re quite the asshole, you know?” Louis said quietly._

_Harry cackled, setting his coffee on the table in front of him._

_“Oh, love,” Harry said, a taunting edge to his tone, “you really have no idea.”_

* * *

 

**After**

Opening his eyes had become Louis’s least favorite thing to do. Because every time he did, it meant he was still here, still alive, still fending for himself in an actual personification of a hellhole.

Louis dragged himself off of the old couch that had become his bed and stretched, his back popping audibly against the blank static of the air. There were no birds chirping, no car engines in the distance - just a stark silence that had slowly begun to fill the corners of his brain.

With a groan, Louis hauled himself to the corner of the small room where he kept the cans. He reached for the box-cutter he kept under his couch and rammed it into the top of one of the cans without looking at its label.  Then he raised the can to his mouth and drank down the cold, slimy contents – green beans, possibly? It tasted like it had once been plant-like.

It had been two months, give or take, since Louis had found himself living in the basement of one of the row houses on Capitol Hill. It was completely secure – it had a separate entrance from the rest of the house, and there were no windows – just cement walls, an old couch, a stack of old cans, a stack of old newspapers that Louis tried not to look at, and Wyatt.

Louis tugged on a pair of dirty jeans he hadn’t worn in a few days and the only sweatshirt he’d managed to salvage from his house – a black one that said _The Strokes_ in neon blue across the chest.

Louis left his cellar without locking the door, because there was no one around to break in (and anyway, it wasn’t as though he had a key). He set off on foot, as he did most days, towards the Mall, to see what sorts of treasures he could salvage 

The first week, he’d been bold enough to walk through the Smithsonian Museum of American History, and he’d managed to gather scraps of the Star-Spangled Banner. It was impossible to tell what anything else was – most of it was just ash and garbage, surrounded by bits of wood and fabric and stone. The flag, though, was unmistakable – even in its tattered and ruined state, it had seemed somehow alive and breathing. He’d gathered up the pile of red, white, and blue threads and he’d unthinkingly taken them to his cellar and shoved them inside Wyatt. Leaving them lying in a blown-apart museum, vulnerable to elements and whatever else came along, hadn’t seemed like a viable option.

As Louis walked along the cracked sidewalks, trees and fallen building materials lying across his path, he did not allow himself to think about the choppy waters of the Potomac. He did not allow himself to consider the fact that he might be the only one left. He could not, would not allow himself to think at all. He stared straight ahead at the ruins in his path and focused only on the breath in his lungs and the air on his face.

* * *

**Before**

_“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Louis said, his voice echoing unnervingly off the massive walls of the courthouse, “I urge you to think about circumstantial evidence as being just as valid as concrete evidence. Mr. Lawrence, though he was never seen at the scene of the crime, is unmistakably guilty. Any other explanation for all that transpired simply does not add up.”_

_Louis tried desperately not to stare at Harry’s plump, infuriating lips, and the way that they curled into a sneer as he spoke._

_“There is no reason to acquit this man. Do so, and you set a criminal free to walk among you, your families and your children. Do so, and you condemn someone else to the same fate as Mr. Lawrence’s victims.”_

_The eyes of the jurors had been tinted with boredom for several weeks, but now, Louis noted, they were rounded with worry. He’d gotten them thinking – scared of what they were capable of. They were right where Louis wanted them, and with that realization, a hot surge of energy welled up inside his chest._

_“Consider which option will allow you to sleep soundly at night,” Louis said. “Consider which option will keep your children safest. And consider, truly consider, what it would mean to bring this man to justice.”_

_Louis paused, letting his voice fade from the walls._

_“The prosecution rests, Your Honor.”_

* * *

**After**  

The Lincoln Memorial lay crumbled and ruined, with few of the massive marble pillars still standing, and none of the roof intact. Louis carefully made his up the once-pristine white stone steps, avoiding rubble as he went. Abe’s head and shoulders had cracked away from the rest of his body and slid sideways onto the floor, and he stared at Louis with a flat, uncaring expression. Louis shivered as he stared into Abe’s emotionless eyes.

And then he heard it.

A cough.

It was unmistakably a human cough – the first sign of life aside from rats and roaches that Louis had seen or heard in over two months. He whirled around, his eyes darting into the shadows behind rock clusters.

“Hello?” Louis called, his heart hammering wildly in his chest, something warm that felt strangely like hope filling his veins. “Is there someone here?”

Some of the rubble to Abe’s left shifted, and a head popped up from behind it. A real, live person blinked back at Louis – it was a man, and he was covered and caked in dirt, but he was a man and he was here and Louis wasn’t alone. And he was gaping at Louis as though he’d seen a ghost.

Slowly, the gears and cogs in Louis’s brain began to move, and the fact that he knew this man from what seemed like another lifetime became unmistakable. The wide green eyes were the same – the pink lips were a bit less lush-looking, and the hair was matted and dirty, but suddenly all he could see was the man who had stood across from him in the courthouse and sneered as they shook hands, who had smiled charmingly for reporters on TV as Louis had sat on his couch drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Oh,” Louis gasped. “It’s – you.”

Harry Styles climbed over the rubble he’d been sifting through and stood up, still staring at Louis unblinkingly with his green eyes.

“You’re…you’re here too,” Harry stuttered.

Louis nodded. “Have you seen anyone else?”

Harry shook his head slowly. “You’re the first person I’ve seen since…you know.”

Louis’s stomach was doing uncomfortable somersaults somewhere near his throat. He wasn’t alone. That knowledge should have filled him with relief, but instead he felt vaguely ill. Of all the people for him to be alone in the world with, it had to be Harry Fucking Styles. The man who got off on making Louis feel small. The man who derailed his entire fucking career, back when things like that mattered.

He studied Harry silently, watching as Harry’s dry, cracked lips parted. Harry’s eyes darted over Louis’s face, like he couldn’t believe Louis was real. Louis knew the feeling.

“Right, well,” Louis shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It was – um – good seeing you. Good luck out there.”

“Wait,” Harry said, lurching forward to grasp Louis’s elbow. “Where are you going?”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t normally, like, plan it out. I just see what I find.”

“No, I mean…” Harry’s eyes were wide with fear, something Louis had always wanted to see when they faced each other in court, but that he had never had the pleasure of eliciting. Harry was always the picture of confidence. “You’re…you’re just going to go? Even though we’re the only ones left? Shouldn’t we stick together?”

Louis scoffed. “Please, Styles. Like you and I could ever need each other.”

Harry dropped his hand, frowning at Louis with something that looked like hurt clouding his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

“Not really,” Louis said, gazing off to the north where smoke filled the distant horizon. The fires had been burning for weeks – Louis had mostly stopped noticing them. “I’ll survive.”

“Sure, you’ll survive,” said Harry, moving into Louis’s field of vision again. His eyes were no longer hurt, but instead they were full of a cold determination. “But that’s it, isn’t it? You’ll exist. Tell me you haven’t been going through the motions. Tell me you haven’t thought about throwing yourself off what’s left of the Key Bridge, or just giving up on finding food." 

Louis stared at him as long as he could before he couldn’t bear it any longer and had to lower his eyes to the ground.

* * *

**Before**

_The verdict came down in a record-breaking twenty minutes, before Louis even had even finished packing his things into Wyatt._

_“The jury has reached a verdict in the case of the District of Columbia vs. Paul Lawrence. As to the charge of first-degree murder, verdict as to count four, we the jury find the defendant not guilty, so say we all…”_

_Louis tried to make it out of the courthouse and into his car before the reporters caught up with him, but if course he walked straight into a mob of cameras and flashing lights and microphones being thrust under his nose._

_“Mr. Tomlinson, what do you have to say about the verdict?”_

_Louis smiled wryly at the reporter, clutching Wyatt closer to his body as he attempted to navigate around the cameras._

_“Obviously it’s not what I was hoping for,” he said._

_“What would you say to the jurors, if you knew they’d see this?”_

_Louis attempted to shoulder past another reporter but was nudged backwards, nearly knocking over a cameraman._

_“Nothing,” he said. “They’ve done their job just as I’ve done mine.”_

_“And Mr. Styles? The Defense Attorney? The two of you seemed to have a rather amicable relationship through this trial. What would you like to say to him?”_

_“Styles?” Louis said, breathing a short laugh through his nose. He raised an eyebrow at the reporter, who seemed serious about thinking that Louis and Harry had an “amicable” relationship. “I wouldn’t breathe the same air as him even if we were the only two people on earth.”_

* * *

 

**After**

“Look,” said Harry. “I can’t be alone anymore. Now that I know you’re alive, I’m just – I’m not letting you leave.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to _let_ me do anything. It’s a free country.” He gestured rather ironically at the crumbled sculpture of Abe Lincoln behind them. 

Harry was silent – he kept staring at Louis with those eyes of his.

“Right. Okay. Bye, Harry,” Louis said, and he turned to make his way back down the stairs.

When he reached the bottom, he heard a shuffle and a curse from behind him. He turned to see Harry attempting to climb down the last few steps.

“So you’re just going to follow me?” Louis said.

Harry stumbled rather ungracefully down the last step and swept his dirty hair out of his eyes, looking at Louis with that wide, fearful expression again.

“Please,” Harry said, his voice quiet. “Don’t leave me alone again.” He dropped his head, hair flopping back into his face, and stared at his shoes.

Louis let the air pass between them for a few moments. He thought about waking up that morning and how he had briefly considered just lying there to waste away. He thought about Harry’s lips against the rim of his plastic coffee lid on the last day of the trial. He thought about the stark quiet of the air that seemed to press in on him from all sides these days.

“Okay,” Louis said. “Come on.”

He started walking towards the reflecting pool – it took Harry a moment to catch up to him.

“Really?” Harry said, a smile splitting his features. Louis never knew he had dimples. A strange swooping feeling settled in his stomach.

“I could use the company,” Louis mumbled. “Even if it’s you.”

* * *

**After**  

“What was it like, for you?” Louis asked, pulling a bag of tortilla chips off the shelf along with a jar of salsa that hadn’t expired. They stepped over rivers of broken glass and spilled substances, avoiding the produce section as they made their way back out into the still, silent air.

“What was what like?” Harry gestured toward a bench that was still intact, and so they sat on the edge of the deserted street in their deserted city and Louis popped the salsa open.

“The…you know. Whatever it was. How did you…survive?" 

Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. I went to sleep the night of the trial with a few glasses of champagne in me, and when I woke up, half my flat had been blown apart. So I took cover in the basement. That was right before the hurricane came through, I think, so I stayed down there for a few days. Luckily I had some food stored down there. That was a hurricane, right?”

Louis shrugged. “I think so, but your guess is as good as mine.”

“What was it like for you?” Harry asked, dunking a chip into the jar of salsa in Louis’s hand.

Louis shook his head. “I don’t know how I survived. I meant to just let it take me.”

Louis couldn’t look at Harry, but he heard him stop chewing abruptly.

“I woke up in the middle of the night with my flat on fire. And there was no one,” he said, and his voice wobbled although he willed it not to. “Not a single person. No bodies. I – what happened?”

Harry’s hand came to rest gently on Louis’s lower back, and he found that he didn’t mind it there.

“I ran around looking for someone – anyone – but I couldn’t find a single soul, obviously. So I took cover in this random basement. Same as you, except it wasn’t mine. Laid down on this ratty old couch I found and just waited to die. Or whatever.”

Harry began rubbing small circles at the base of Louis’s spine.

“But I guess I fell asleep there, and somehow woke up the next day. And every day since.”

“Louis,” Harry whispered.

“I – I never hated you, Harry,” Louis said, his vision swimming when he looked up at him, tears threatening to spill over the edges. “You just – you made me so angry. It was the most important trial of my life and you walked around that place like you were better than me, like you thought I was dirt. It was the same way my dad used to look at me. It made me want to hate you.”

Harry pulled his hand away from Louis’s back and Louis tried to blink the tears away, tried to read Harry’s face. But then Harry’s arms were around his shoulders, pulling him in. He let his face be crushed against Harry’s shoulder, the salsa jar still held in his hand.

“I had to talk to you like that,” Harry said, “Because you’re the most intimidating person I’ve ever seen. And it’s really, really bad to have a crush on the opposing team’s legal counsel.”

Louis pulled back and blinked at him, Harry’s face slowly coming into focus, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The swooping sensation filled Louis’s stomach again.

“What?”

“I – uh,” Harry said, his brow furrowing. “Sorry. That was probably – um. I’m sorry. Please don’t get rid of me, I promise I won’t be weird about it –“

“Shut up,” Louis said quietly, setting the salsa jar on the bench and standing up. He grabbed Harry by the elbows and pulled him into a standing position, and then he took Harry’s hand in his and started walking. 

* * *

**After**

Louis slammed the door to his cellar and swallowed, his mouth dry. He couldn’t remember the last time this many feelings took up residence in his chest at once, even before everything came apart. 

He turned around and faced Harry, who stood in the middle of the small, dank room wearing a nervous expression. “The whole time?” Louis rasped. 

Harry moved toward him, with his stupid sincere eyes and his stupid pink lips and his stupid curly hair. Louis’s heart lurched into his throat. He couldn’t breathe.

Harry’s hands fisted in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Louis stumbled, falling right up against Harry’s broad chest.

“The whole time,” Harry whispered, his breath ghosting against Louis’s lips. And that was it, really.

Louis pressed his mouth urgently against Harry’s, their lips meeting and then opening in quick succession. Harry’s mouth was warm and wet against his, and Louis gently pushed his tongue inside, exploring. Harry’s tongue softly moved alongside his own, a stark contrast to how harsh Harry normally felt to Louis.  Harry moaned in his throat as Louis kissed him openly. 

“Lou,” he breathed when their lips finally separated.

For how hard and distant Harry had always seemed on the floor of the courthouse, he was nothing but softness in Louis’s grip. Soft edges and soft lips and soft whispers and touches – Louis couldn’t put the two different versions of Harry together in his head.

But then maybe Harry had never been as cold or as distant as he’d thought, and maybe Louis had only needed to tell himself that in order to tear the man apart. Maybe Harry’s sincerity and softness had always been there, lurking just behind the shadows in his eyes, waiting for Louis to really pay attention. 

Louis moved his hands up to Harry’s biceps, squeezing gently, prompting another low groan from Harry. He separated their mouths with a quiet smacking sound and walked them to the couch, lowering himself to lie on the cushions and pulling Harry down on top of him.

Harry was on him immediately, the warmth of his lips against Louis’s mouth making Louis go boneless with want. Harry’s arms cradled his lower back, and he stroked his fingers gently across the broad expanse of Harry’s shoulders and upper arms. Louis broke their kiss and pressed his nose to the skin below Harry’s ear. He smelled slightly sweet and musky, and not like the world had fallen apart around him. He smelled like life, and like human. “Sorry,” Louis mumbled into Harry’s jaw, “About the couch. It’s not the nicest.”

Harry laughed quietly, opening his lips against Louis’s throat, and Louis felt the vibrations of his laugh spread into his chest. “Don’t worry, love,” said Harry, kissing down the side of his neck, and it wasn’t like any of the other times Harry had called him “love.” Those times, Louis had thought Harry was taunting him, making him feel small and insignificant. This time, though, it made Louis feel powerful. He shivered underneath Harry, who paused in his ministrations. For a moment, they simply looked at each other in the darkness, Louis just barely able to make out the glimmer of Harry’s wide eyes. He could feel his cock filling up against his thigh, and he knew that Harry, pressed flush against him, could probably feel it too. Harry brought his lips to Louis’s ear and breathed hotly on the shell of it.

“What do you want?” Harry whispered, his teeth gently closing around Louis’s earlobe.

“Want you,” Louis whispered back, so quietly he could barely hear himself. He knew that Harry had heard, though, by the way he groaned again and sank his teeth more sharply into the flesh of Louis’s ear. Louis gasped.

“Want you, too,” Harry whispered, and then he shifted his hips just slightly on top of Louis’s and, _oh._

Harry lined up his hard cock with Louis’s and began to grind slowly against him, their jeans adding to the deliciously infuriating friction. Louis let out a breathy moan as Harry swiveled his hips just so, and then his lips were enveloped once again by Harry’s mouth. His heart fluttered in his chest, and a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time spread through his veins. 

“Harry,” Louis sighed, grinding up against Harry, falling into his rhythm.

Harry’s hands slid around to Louis’s sides and tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt, and he sat back so that Louis could peel it off. He tugged off his own shirt and leaned back down, his hands and lips exploring Louis’s bare skin. He thumbed gently at Louis’s nipples, mouthed at the skin that covered his ribcage. Louis’s mouth fell open. Harry pressed his tongue into Louis’s belly button and nibbled gently at the slight tummy that formed just above his waistband, and Louis let out a high-pitched squeak. Harry chuckled again, moving back up to cover Louis’s mouth with his own.

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry whispered against his lips, and Louis whimpered. He ran his hands from Harry’s shoulders, down his arms, to splay across his chest. He drew gentle patterns across Harry’s soft, pale skin with his fingertips as Harry held himself up on his arms for Louis’s inspection. He traced the small circles of Harry’s nipples, and then smiled to himself when he found two lower, smaller circles to trace.  Harry bent down and kissed the smile off his face, pressing his chest flush with Louis’s and sighing. Louis ground up against him again, picking their rhythm back up.

“God, Lou,” Harry said, his hands snaking underneath Louis to cup his ass in both hands. Louis inhaled sharply through his nose and thrust his hips up, pushing his fingers through the roots of Harry’s curls. 

Harry’s hands moved around to the front of Louis’s jeans, unbuttoning them and hooking his thumbs under the waistband. He slid the jeans down Louis’s lean legs slowly, pausing to press his nose to Louis’s inner thigh, to taste the skin behind Louis’s knee.

Louis couldn’t stand Harry’s slow, reverent pace any longer, and when Harry had finally peeled the jeans off his legs, he shoved his own briefs down as well, his cock springing free to slap gently against his hip.

“Jesus,” Harry whispered, running a gentle thumb up Louis’s thigh and along the crease between his hip and his groin. Louis fisted his hands in Harry’s hair and bucked up again, letting out a breathy sigh.

“C’mon,” Louis said, grabbing for the front of Harry’s jeans. “Off.”

Harry laughed quietly, allowing Louis to slide his zipper down before climbing off of him to kick his jeans and his underwear off. He crawled back up to Louis, holding himself on his hands and knees above him for just a moment before allowing their naked bodies to crash gently together.

“ _Oh_ ,” Louis groaned, their groins rubbing together as they ground their hips slowly. Harry bracketed Louis’s head with his forearms and let out a matching groan into Louis’s ear.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Harry said breathlessly.

“How long?” Louis whispered, arching his back in an attempt to generate more friction.

One of Harry’s hands slid down Louis’s side, his fingers tracing the dip of his waist before sliding underneath his body to run gently down his crack. Louis gasped.

“Since I first saw you,” Harry whispered in his ear, his breath hotter and more desperate. “Since the first time we met in the deposition, and you wore that obscenely well-tailored navy suit.”

Louis chuckled, but his laugh was interrupted by another gasp as Harry’s fingers began to tease his rim.

“You’re so strong,” Harry moaned into his ear, moving his other hand behind Louis and digging his fingers into the flesh of Louis’s ass. “So strong, and so passionate, and I desperately wanted to be the one who got to take you apart.”

Louis moaned loudly, and his sounds contrasted with the stark quiet he had gotten used to. There was no one around to hear them – they were completely alone in the world, and for once, that thought did not scare Louis or make him feel nauseous. Instead it made heat roll up his spine, and he allowed his sounds to escape more freely as Harry slid down his body, kissing as he went -  his collarbone, the bottom of his sternum, just above his belly button, the points at the wings of his hips.

Harry gripped his thighs and spread them wider before ducking between Louis’s legs. He licked a stripe up the bottom of Louis’s hard, flushed cock, popping the head into his mouth for a moment before moving back down. He ran his tongue along Louis’s perineum, agonizingly slowly, before gently prying Louis’s cheeks apart with his thumbs and running his tongue over his puckered opening.

Louis nearly shouted, his legs kicking out against his will and his hands flying up above his head to grab the arm of the couch. Harry held him steady and licked again, moving his tongue in a small circle and pressing the tip just briefly into Louis’s hole. 

Harry worked him open for what felt like hours, and neither of them kept their sounds to themselves. Every time Harry moaned into his body, Louis felt his hips jerk and his cock get impossibly fatter. Harry’s tongue was wet and hot and relentless, and when he had Louis relaxed enough he just peeled him open further and pressed his tongue deeper inside.

He felt Harry’s spit-slick fingers exploring inside his body after a while – he couldn’t tell how much time had passed, his mind floating along in a haze somewhere near the ceiling – and when Harry found his prostate and fluttered his fingers against it gently, Louis let a sound rip from his chest that he didn’t know he could make.

“Harry, oh my god,” he moaned. “Harry.”

Harry kept up his agonizing tease, slowly withdrawing his fingers as his tongue circled Louis’s rim, and then pushing them back inside to stroke gently at his prostate. White-hot pleasure lit Louis on fire from within, the sensation spreading from the bottom of his spine out to every cell in his body.

“Harry,” he said, gasping breaths, “you have to – I can’t –“

Harry seemed to understand – he withdrew his tongue and his fingers and pressed a chaste kiss against Louis’s rim before crawling up Louis’s body again. His eyes widened as he took in Louis’s face, and Louis couldn’t understand why until Harry reached out and thumbed the thin skin below his eyes, collecting the wetness that had appeared there without Louis noticing. Harry sucked his thumb into his mouth.

“Please,” Louis said, arching his back. “Please get inside of me.”

So Harry sat up on his haunches and spat into his hands, rubbing them together before tugging slowly at his own, painfully hard looking cock. He shuddered, like the sensation was too much for him, before spitting again and repeating the process. For the first time since they had started, Louis could really make out how _big_ Harry was, and all he could think about was letting Harry split him open until he cried.

Harry had to spit into his palms several more times before his erection was wet enough to slide inside Louis. He grinned as he hitched Louis’s legs over his shoulders.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “We’ll have to go hunting for some post-apocalyptic lube.”

Louis breathed a laugh, but quickly gasped instead as he felt the blunt tip of Harry’s cock at his entrance. He arched his back as Harry pressed in slowly, filling Louis up. Everything was wet and hot and so, so deep. When Harry finally bottomed out, Louis allowed himself a moment to get used to the sensation of being split open so widely before he threw his head back against the cushion and tried to grind himself down impossibly further.

“Fuck,” Harry said, holding still to allow Louis to get used to him being inside his body. He drew gentle shapes on Louis’s knees with his fingers.

“Fuck me,” Louis groaned. “Please.”

And Harry did.

He slid his cock almost all the way back out before slamming back in again, and Louis nearly fell apart at the sensation. Their hot, wet skin sliding together, connecting them in so many ways, was almost overwhelming after not seeing or speaking to another soul in over two months. And now he felt so wrapped up in Harry that he couldn’t remember where he ended and where Harry began.

Harry fucked him slow, hard, and deep, like he wanted to memorize the drag of his cock inside Louis’s body and the way every time he pulled out, Louis clenched down on him, like his body was begging Harry to stay. Their moans mixed together in the silent air, and to Louis, the sound meant so much more than, “This feels good.” It meant, “We’re here, we’re alive, we’re okay.” 

Harry’s thrusts sped up after a while, and Louis bucked his hips up to meet him. Sweat rolled down Harry’s temples, matting his curls to the skin of his neck. Louis raised his arms toward him and Harry fell forward against his chest, never stopping the wicked rolls of his hips.

Louis cradled him tightly and kissed the salty skin of his forehead, licking the sweat from the sides of his face. Harry buried his face in the juncture between Louis’s shoulder and his neck and bit down, the sharp point of pain contrasting deliciously with the pleasure radiating through his body. Louis shuddered and began bucking his hips more erratically.

 “You close, baby?” Harry panted into his ear, his own thrusts losing a bit of their sinful control as he pressed more urgently into Louis’s open and willing body. 

“Close,” Louis whispered, feeling his arms begin to tremble around Harry and his legs begin to twitch uncontrollably.

“Me too,” Harry groaned in his ear, biting down on the flesh of Louis’s neck again, and that was all it took for Louis to feel himself go flying over the edge.

His eyes rolled back as stars exploded against the black screen of his vision. He couldn’t feel anything except a glorious warm, weightless sensation, and Harry’s cock fucking him through his orgasm, without which he might likely have floated off the couch entirely by now. 

As he came back down moments later, he realized that Harry’s face was screwed up in concentration, a flush spreading all the way down his body to where they were joined. He was fucking into Louis so quickly that Louis’s legs shook.

“Come on, love,” Louis said, his voice coming out slurred. He ran his hands down Harry’s spine. “Come inside me.”

He clenched his tired muscles, and Harry let out his loudest moan yet and buried his face in Louis’s chest. Louis could feel hot pulses of Harry’s come spilling inside his body, which might have been enough to get him hard again if he hadn’t just experienced such a mind-blowing orgasm.

Harry shuddered on top of him, moaning and gasping in quick succession. Louis smoothed gentle hands down his spine, murmuring soothing words in his ear. He held Harry as he floated along for minutes afterwards, his wide eyes blinking up at Louis with a serene blankness to them. 

When Harry came back, Louis knew because his expression shifted. He furrowed his brows for a moment before leaning in to capture Louis’s lips. Louis opened his mouth gladly for Harry’s tongue, kissing him slow and deep.

Their lips separated and Harry sighed contentedly, sliding one of his hands underneath Louis and pressing two fingers against his rim as he pulled out. They both winced at the sensation, Harry collapsing again against Louis’s chest.

“Sleep?” Harry asked, a smile curling his lips.

“Sleep,” Louis replied. He had just enough energy to shift their bodies so that they were comfortably tangled together with their heads on a pillow before he passed out.

* * *

 

**After**

When Louis woke up, the first thing he felt was a warm weight draped across his body. There were legs tangled with his and arms looped gently around him and quiet breaths being snuffled against his chest. And for the first time since everything fell apart, opening his eyes didn't make him immediately want to close them again. Being alive didn't fill him with a sense of panic. 

He smiled at the curly-haired man draped over his come-dried stomach and tightened his grip around him. For the first time in months, Louis felt warm and content. Louis felt that maybe, possibly, he'd be alright.

* * *

 

**During**

Louis could feel the sweat pouring from his skin in buckets, dampening one of the two outfits he’d managed to grab before the flames engulfed everything. He’d landed strangely on his ankle after he’d jumped from the fire escape, and his shouts for help had gone unanswered after hours. There were no sirens – there were no traces of life or death anywhere at all. Just destruction, complete and total destruction, with no sign of respite.

His heart had been fluttering in his throat for hours – his stomach was churning and his mind couldn’t make sense of anything. He just kept running through the streets – or, hobbling, really – waiting for something to make sense.

When the rushing wind and rain came through, blowing ash and rubble into his eyes, Louis found an unlocked cellar under the sidewalk. It was dark and musty inside, and the wind whipped the door open so hard that it almost broke. There was nothing but an old couch inside, so Louis left the door open, threw Wyatt on the ground, and fell onto the couch.

When he closed his eyes and the tears came trickling out and he waited for the fire and wind to come in and snatch him, he one thing that inexplicably popped into his mind was the man with the curly hair, mysterious green eyes, and unforgettable, soft-looking lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! :)
> 
> Title taken from [Mona Lisa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4tconLpPBM) by The All-American Rejects


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